Medical Call
by WolvesFire77
Summary: Revenge was not something he constantly ran into...and he definetly didn't expect it from a mech like him. Re-written first chapter.


**Author's Two Cents:** As I reread this one afternoon I realized that I needed to re-write this story. Clean it up a little if you will. Though I also realized I've got a lot of work to do with my other stories and re-writing another doesn't help, but I figured this story's short. And I rather did like the idea of rewriting this story for those of you who do like it. So why not?

* * *

Sighing gruffly Ironhide slightly glared at the mech leaning against him, white helm laying firmly on a red boxy shoulder.

"What is it Ironhide?"

"Wh'ts wrong wit' ya? Ya've been real leth'rgic t'day."

Ratchet didn't even look away from his data pad as he answered, light teal optics following the medical results and files his fingers played with.

"Hmm? Oh no, I'm just…tired. That's all."

Snorting like an agitated bull Ironhide grumbled to himself as he shifted a little, putting his arm into its usual place across the back of the couch as Ratchet shifted to practically lay on the larger red mech, complete with a white leg thrown over a red lap.

Silence ruled their little section of the rec room as a quietly calm chatter crawled across the floor from the other bots that lounged around the large room.

"Ya' leave tha' Med bay wit' F'st Aid?"

Nodding his head minutely Ratchet paused for a second, his hand pausing in mid air before he continued.

"Swoop should be there too when he gets back from patrol."

"Tha' bird?"

Ratchet chuckled before he said "He's not a bird. He's a pterodactyl."

"Ah tha' bird."

Sighing Ratchet smiled. Ironhide's nickname to his built creation often made said mech chitter with amusement as he smiled. Claiming Ironhide's nickname as a loving endearment.

"C'mon, le's go ta' recharge. S'already getting' late."

Sitting forward Ratchet put his data pad into his sub space pocket as Ironhide stood up, flopping his own data pad onto the large table in front of them. Stretching tense back struts Ratchet sighed as he sat back straight and took the outstretched red hand. Entwining their fingers Ironhide lead them out, the pair returning the farewells from the other mechs present.

"Ratchet!"

Growling Ratchet stopped close to Ironhide, leaning back against the mech's side slightly stepping not to obviously behind him.

"What Wheeljack?"

The evil glint that flashed through the inventor's optics was so well hidden Ratchet wasn't even fully sure he saw it himself.

"See you later…old friend."

Maybe it was the way those words sounded, but they gave Ratchet a bad feeling either way, even after the Lancia had been left behind and Ironhide lead him out.

* * *

"Ratch'."

He didn't know what was going on, but it was quickly pissing him off. Slightly opening his optical shutters Ratchet glared over his shoulder at the red mech.

"_Yes_, 'Hide?"

The look of relief on his mate's face shattered Ratchet's annoyance, causing him to turned around to face the red mech. Opening his side of the bond a little more Ratchet inwardly questioned the fear he felt. Reaching up a red hand gently cupped itself around grey faceplates.

"What's wrong Ironhide? Tell me, it's alright."

"Are you alright?"

"Me?"

He tried keeping his confusion to himself but it was kind of hard with the red mech staring at him with such a worried expression. Smiling calmly Ratchet touched his fore-helm to the larger red mechs, slightly noticing how cold Ironhide felt. Frowning to himself he reached up and replaced his hand where his helm was.

"I should be asking you the same thing. You're frame's so cold."

Ironhide grabbed Ratchet's hand, his expression worried again.

"Imma fine Ratch'. It's ya I'mma worried 'bout. Yer temper'tures so- wait…ya' don't feel it?"

Meshing his optical ridges together Ratchet shook his head. He felt fine. Running a systems check anyway the white mech almost chocked on his air. His system's were almost red lining from overheating. Ironhide must've seen the shock and fear in the medic's optics because he was immediately up off the berth with Ratchet in his arms, running out their room and towards the medical bay within a matter of seconds. He didn't even show the pain having Ratchet's scalding hot armor again his must have caused.

"Jus' hold on Ratch'. I'll get'cha ta' med bay an' everythin'll be all bet'er again."

Mumbling. Ironhide was mumbling.

Ironhide never mumbled unless he was backed into a corner with no way out, not knowing what to do other than mumble.

"-Jus' don' do anythin' th'tll get cha' all rilled up Babe."

Glancing up at the mech Ratchet mentally reveled in how good Ironhide's cool frame felt again his. Leaning back against the red mech Ratchet sighed. He didn't fell like he was on the verge of stasis lock, but the warnings in his optical view were telling him otherwise.

"What's wrong with me?"

* * *

"I'm sorry Ironhide but all the scanners and tests says he's in perfect condition -Wait let me finish…I did however put a cooling blanket on him and flushed newer, fresher coolant into his lines, I also put him into medicated recharge so his systems won't be working with that stress. I'll talk to Wheeljack and Preceptor as well as Skyfire about this and we'll get working on a solution."

The smaller medical bot stared up at the red mech, exhaustion and defeated worry evident in Ironhide's stance and down turned optics.

"Fr'st Aid …I…is th're anythin' ai' can do?"

"Well from what I'm coming up with, and this is just my educated guess, but it's sounding like these are symptoms of a new virus. And virus' are better flushed out of the system with lots of recharge and small dosages of volts as for an active antivirus which I already started. I'll let you take him back to your quarters once he waked up on his own. I'll talk to Jolt about those volts and get them to you as soon as I'm physically possible."

Nodding the red burly mech kept his optics on the other's visor, a small smile sliding onto his lip plates.

"Thank's lil' mech."

"Just doing what Ratchet taught me mech."

Straightening up Ironhide followed the medical bot into the med bay, optics automatically locking onto his silently still mate.

"Well…your doing a damn good job at it Fr'st Aid."

"I just wish I could figure this out."

"Wh't ai' d'nt underst'nd is why 'is f're walls di'nt catch this."

Taking a moment to understand Ironhide's accent First Aid nodded.

"Well since it isn't anything I recognize it could be a brand new virus. Freshly modified and his edition of his firewalls and antivirus protection protocols didn't register this as a virus because it wasn't in the 'virus bank'."

"'Ai guess yer right."

* * *

Soft beeping and small clicks filled the large metallic room.

"Soon…"

A soft blue emitted from vocalizer indicators on the side of his head, showing his contentment of the situation. The tips of his grey fingers tapped gently against their opposite counterpart.

"Soon I'll be in my right place…"

A holo-screen showed the medic laid out prone on the medical berth, his red mate sat with his head laid out on his arm which was resting on the medical berth's soft cushioning. A red hand entwined itself with limp white fingers. A grey fist slammed onto the table in front of him, making the small loose components jump and drops of his energon fly out of its cube container.

"Soon **YOU** will be _GONE_! And I…I-I will be head medic! I'll be…where I **_BELONG_**!"

His laughter chased off the small turbo mice that cowered in the corners of the large lab. Soon both fists slammed down, anchoring themselves in their positions on the work table.

"**NOW!** Now is the time to _act!_ While he's down! I must give him the second dose! Must make it go quicker! **MORE _PAINFUL!_** Last _LONGER!_ **YEEEES!"**

Blue light faded to dark red, malicious laughter took a darker turn as Wheeljack continued his own evily motivated speech.

Running around his lab he grabbed little pieces of equipment and various colorful liquids. Dropping them down onto the steel table grey hands made simple work of putting the equipment together, his vocalize sufficiently muttering his guaranteed victory over the medic.

"I will…I **WILL!**...Will show him…that he was **_WRONG_ IN TELLING ME** that I **_WASN'T_** fit to be a medic!"

Soon the kits were together and a vastly large set of tubes joined together to show a highly intelligent mixing contraption. Positioning the right tubes of liquids in their spots Wheeljack released his battle mask to show is large smile to his contraption.

Pressing a few buttons the liquids suddenly ran down the tubes, twisting and turning this way and that, some even traveling up -defying gravity- and changing colors. Though the end result emptied itself out into a cube, adopting the light pink color of mid grade energon. Dramatically laying himself next to the deceiving cube Wheeljack caressed it's corners lovingly.

"Soon you will get what'd been long over due for you Ratchet…my old _friend_."

* * *

Jolting out of recharge Ratchet gasped desperately for air, his fast movements throwing the blanket covering him down to his pedes, his optics wide and his in-venting was harshly forced. A large red hand was suddenly on his chest plate, quickly drawing his attention to the mech attached to it.

"Easy Ratch'. S'jus' meh."

Ironhide sat down next to the medic, drawing him into his arms as the white mech practicly clung to him, his long slender fingers gripping red sides on borderline painful terms.

"_I_-Iron-_h_-hide."

Staring down at the white mech he frowned, rubbing tense back plates.

"Yer vocalizer's glitchin' aga'n ain't it?"

A nod made him reach for a small shot looking contraption innocently laying on the berth's side table.

"'ere…lemme give ya' 'nother dosage."

"But _aa_-I_'gh_ don't _wft_-w_h_-ant one."

"Ya need it Ratch'. It'll make yer speech bett'r an yah process'r aches'll go 'way too."

Sighing Ratchet nodded and sat up a little, detaching himself from Ironhide and retracting his bicep armor, revealing his soft, light grey protoform. Wincing at the jolt of electricity Ratchet sighed when Ironhide removed the small machine and his armor returned to its rightful place. Ironhide leaned to the side placing the contraption back into it's spot and spooned Ratchet's back as the white mech went to lay down. Laying his arm over Ratchet's sloped waist Ironhide smiled a little as he noticed the medic wasn't so warm this cycle.

"Ironhide…"

"Yeah Ratch'?"

"This thing…has anyone…does anyone else know about it besides you and First Aid?"

"I'mma sure Prime kn'ws. Hmm…maybe'h Pr'wl too. Iff'a Pr'wl kn'ws then Jazz kn'ws too but ya know 'e won't go 'round talking."

"Oh…what about…Preceptor and Skyfire…Wheeljack?"

"Hmm lil' mech said he was gonna t'lk ta Pr'ceptor and Sk'f're an Wh'ljack too. I dun' think he 'membered ta tell 'Jack tho cuz' 'ai ain't seen tha' mech since tha' time 'e said bye ta' ya' in tha' rec room."

Sighing in relief Ratchet smiled, sliding his hand into the other's enjoying Ironhide's body heat -or rather lack thereof- coming from his frame.

He'd known Wheeljack was just waiting for him to be in a vulnerable position. It was partially why he always kept his virus protocols up to date and kept his health in as tip-top a shape as he could.

Now though…he expected the other mech to pounce at the opportunity to eliminate him from the equation.

Wheeljack hadn't always wanted his head on a spear. Back in the academy they were best friends, brothers from other carriers and they stuck to each other like they were spark split twins. Many of the instructor's expected them to move onto another stage of their close relationship while others suspected the two of being actual real twins. They both had the same likes and dislikes most of the times.

Ratchet had wanted to go into the medical field and followed through with flying colors, Wheeljack on the other hand had not done so well.

Ratchet could cure a deadly virus inside a patient in 0.23 astroseconds.  
Wheeljack took over 27.45 astroseconds: his patient ceasing to exist at 13.08.

Ratchet was able to stop a critically burned patient from bleeding out without any assistance.  
Wheeljack accidently gave the patience the wrong solution and ended up sending the patient into shocked arrest.

Ratchet was able to calm down a distressed civilian that had just survived a gang's attempted murder on him.  
Wheeljack lost patience and frightened the civilian into temporary stasis lock.

In basicly everything Wheeljack did, Ratchet surpassed him with flying colors. It didn't help that after he messed up with the live test subjects Ratchet would be called in to stabilize the situation.

_"Why don't you try doing something else? Something you're good at?"_

_"I'm good at being a medic! I just need more practice…that's all I need."_

_"I know, I know but….Wheeljack…in this field you have to think quickly…you either got it…or…"_

_"…You don't…I get it Ratchet."_

_"I don't mean for you to give up 'Jack I'm just saying why not try something else your good at. You can make cool little invention things. What about when the vid screen broke and you improvised with those broken data pads. That was pretty smart of you."_

_"And how's that gonna help me."_

_"Why not try the engineering field. You can use that crazy processor of yours to make some pretty cool slag 'Jack. Just…try it…for me?"_

_"Alright…but just cause that's your way of saying please."_

Turned out Ratchet was right. Wheeljack had succeeded to the point of graduating early and gaining the experience needed to work on some important machines inside the living planet.

But Something happened to Wheeljack. Ratchet didn't know what it was or when it happened exactly but he came back from a trip to Praxus to find his friend had turned aggressively on him. Blaming him for changing what he wanted, for making him believe he wasn't good enough to be a medic.

By this point Wheeljack had his hands around Ratchet's neck, slamming the mech against the wall.

_"Wh-whaat're you talking…about?"_

_"Don't you dare play stupid with me medic!"_

_"Wha-at're you-"_

_"The damn letter in your locker! Why was my medical academy acceptance letter in your locker!"_

Ratchet winced as Wheeljack slammed him against the wall a couple more times before releasing him to stalk over to the window. Rubbing his sore neck plating and cable Ratchet coughed out the static in his throat as he pushed himself into a sitting position on the floor.

_"Because…you were so happy in the engineering field I didn't…didn't want you to derive from that happiness. The friends you made…the success you got recognized for! If you had went ahead with the medical classes you would have just gone back to the way you were. Wheeljack you have to accept that you're a better engineer than you'll ever be when it comes to being a medic."_

_"_**LIAR!** _You just wanted all the fame for yourself! You're afraid of the competition I'd give you! You just wait Ratchet…I'm going to show you your wrong you piece of slag. Frag you and what you say, your wrong and you don't know what I am capable of."_

Ratchet stared at Wheeljack with cold optics, a stoic façade covering his features.

_"Do what you want Wheeljack. I'm done trying to convince you of something I know you'd love. Just remember this…if you even try to get hired or open your own medical facility within the city parameter of Iacon and Praxus I'll personally make sure you're shut down. I won't stand by and watch some innocent bot suffer just because you_ 'haven't had enough practice'_. Pft…I still can't believe that piece of slag excuse."_

That had been the end of their friendship till they met again on Prime's energon search vessel; the _Ark_.

Their meeting was far too joyous for comfort in Ratchet's opinion, and it wasn't till Wheeljack caught him alone in the med bay did he reveal his plans for the medic.

Now things were different. He had a strong bond mate to protect him and wonderful friends that he knew would choose him over Wheeljack any earth day.

The problem was, there were also bots that chose the easy loving inventor over the Medic without any hesitation and most of those mechs knew the story through Wheeljack's optics. Ratchet hadn't told anyone of Wheeljack's intentions because he felt they were rather petty and wouldn't succeed in the first place. No need to be worrying over something that wasn't even any trouble to begin with…right?

Now, as an unknown force tore through his functioning body, he was wondering if that was such a smart choice to begin with.

* * *

**Author's last thoughts:** Wow…8 Microsoft word pages and it's just the first chapter. Well personally I believe this version is way better than the previous. I think it shows a little more detail than the previous_ Medical Call_ did too.

I'm actually amazed I didn't even use the old write as a guide. I just started and bam, the thing practically wrote itself. Also like I said in the first version I don't hate Wheeljack I'm just using him as the bad guy for once x3

Well I don't know about you but I surly enjoyed writing this chapter. Let's see how the next fairs.


End file.
